Their Kind
by Morkgirl
Summary: Mork recalls meeting an important person from his past, learning about his origins, and discovering his destiny
1. Chapter 1

Their Kind

Part One

As Mork and Mindy strolled across the Boulder mall on a sweltering, miserable summer day, they passed a toddler in a stroller who had lost the contents of her ice cream cone, the remnants of the frozen treat splattered and melting into a sugary, sticky puddle on the sidewalk. The little girl was visibly distraught over her loss, bawling loudly and kicking her chubby legs in a frantic attempt to try to retrieve it. The girl's mother appeared to be distracted, talking to a friend and oblivious to her daughter's suffering. Upset over the mother's neglect and sensitive to the child's distressed cries, Mork sought to help her. Making sure first that no one was watching, he used his powers, re-freezing the ice cream into a perfectly compact ball and gently lifting it back onto the cone. The child didn't seem to find anything unusual about ice cream floating in the air and resting on top of the cone, although Mindy reacted with horror, hoping no one would witness the bizarre sight, wishing that Mork would exercise more caution and restraint. The child smiled and looked up at Mork, giggling with delight. He returned the smile, gently placing his hand on her wispy blond pigtails to comfort her. Satisfied that his task was complete, he wrapped his arm around Mindy's and led the way as they continued down the sidewalk as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Mindy watched him as they walked, impressed. "You were really kind to that little girl back there," she said.

"Well, I just feel children deserve to be treated with as much respect as any other life form," he said, smiling contentedly. "On Ork, children don't receive any love or attention. When we're young, we're warehoused and treated with the strictest of discipline, since the objective is for us to grow up and continue the progress of our civilization."

"You mean, no one is allowed to play?"

"No, play is forbidden because it is associated with emotions. So is daydreaming or having any kind of notions about what you want to do when you grow up, since your life is already predetermined for you."

"Sounds awful."

Mork stared ahead ruefully. "It is," he said, sighing. "Since I was born with emotions, it was twice as hard for me. I was constantly being disciplined for behaving like an Earth child, for having fun. Orkan discipline is harsh, too."

Mindy noticed his visible shudder, so she didn't ask him to elaborate, noticing how discussing it had already brought up enough disturbing memories for him.

"Tell me Mork, are all societies across the universe as punitive and strict as they are on Ork?" She asked.

"Not all," he said. "Some are actually quite pleasant. Some are far worse."

"Worse? Really? I can't imagine anything worse than living under such an authoritarian regime as you seem to have on Ork."

He looked at her, his eyes intense. "There _is_ worse," he said. "I've seen it."

Deep Space—Several Years Earlier

Mork's spacecraft hurtled through the sky, rolling and tumbling, jostling his body around as if he were inside an enormous washing machine on a rapid spin cycle. He had lost power earlier, and he fought desperately to regain control, the craft spinning wildly as it entered the atmosphere of some unknown planet, flames shooting from its sides, the heat becoming intense and unbearable. He heard a loud crack as it began to break apart. Struggling to orient himself as he continued to spin in sickening, rapid loops, he tried to hold the shattering pieces of the craft together, but the shell was so hot that it burned his hands and he had to let go, his efforts useless. Another loud crack erupted as the craft broke completely in half. Mork tried to hold on as tightly as he could, but he lost his grip and was ejected from the craft, his body flung several feet away where he landed with a sharp, hard impact that knocked him unconscious and shattered several of his bones, leaving him in a twisted, bloodied heap. As extensive as his injuries were, he was spared the further torment—and certain death—of the fiery, mangled debris that was all that remained of his craft after it exploded.

As he lay there, helpless and fractured, a small, peculiar creature that resembled a cross between a goldfish and a parrot approached him cautiously, looking at the blazing wreckage in the distance. Instinctively knowing that Mork needed help, the creature began to work on him, binding his wounds and setting his bones as expertly as any doctor on Earth would, stabilizing him and putting his broken leg and arm in splints the creature manufactured out of nearby tree branches. The creature covered his broken body with a blanket of leaves it wove together, trying to make Mork as comfortable as possible and prevent him from going into shock. During this process, Mork stirred and moaned pitiably, his glazed, unfocused eyes opening to slits as he looked around, struggling to make sense of what happened, disoriented and lost in the fog of delirium. When he saw the creature he cried out some incomprehensible gibberish, thinking he was being attacked. He tried to move and screamed in pain when he realized how badly he was injured. The creature hovered over him, staring at him, and he gaped at the being in terror, mumbling and waving his good arm in the air, weakly trying to defend himself. In response to his struggles, the creature spoke reassuringly to him, although it was in a language that Mork didn't understand. The creature put a leaf over Mork's mouth and two others over his eyes, pressing them gently while still whispering comforting words in its native language. Mork tried to remove them, but he found himself weakening the moment the leaves touched him, his excruciating pain leaving him until he felt that he was floating on a soft, comforting bed, lulling him back into a pleasant sleep.

When he regained consciousness, he found a man sitting beside him, stirring the embers of a fire with a stick. He was a pleasant, large, and cheerful looking man with a full head of white hair and a white beard, wearing glasses and looking like a dignified, professorial version of Santa Clause. He was dressed in some kind of white suit that Mork imagined must have at one time been immaculate, but was now faded, torn, and yellowed with age. Mork tried to speak to him, but all that he could manage was a faint whimper. In response to his plaintive cry, the man looked at him and smiled, offering him leaves like the ones the strange creature had placed over his mouth and eyes before he lost consciousness. The man got very close to him, brushing the leaves gently across his lips, trying to coax him to open them.

"Eat these," the man insisted, still pressing them against Mork's mouth. "They will ease the pain."

Unsure whether he could trust the stranger, but feeling too weak and in pain to protest, Mork opened his mouth, accepting the man's help as he fed him the leaves, his body too broken and damaged to feed himself, leaving him even unable to prop himself upright. He was completely helpless and at the mercy of this man who he hoped had only good intentions. He tried to thank him when he finished eating, but he still found himself incapable of speech, his lips moving silently as he gazed up at the man.

The man smiled cheerily at him as if he understood. "You're an Orkan, aren't you?" He asked.

Mork nodded.

"So am I," the man said. "I came to this godforsaken planet a long time ago. I didn't choose to, of course. The superiors made up my mind for me."

"Exile?" Mork managed to croak.

The man smiled and shook his head. "No, it was nothing like that," he said. "I didn't like the direction our society was going, so I voluntarily left. I crash landed on this planet many bleams ago, and I've been stuck here since." He looked at the charred remains of Mork's spacecraft in the distance. "It looks like you experienced the same difficulty. It turns out this planet has a rather unstable atmosphere, and many other visitors have crashed here before. It turns out you and I are the only ones to have survived the impact."

The strange creature that had rescued Mork from the crash reappeared, chirping in the agitated gibberish of its native language. The man seemed to know it, exchanging words with it before returning to Mork.

"If it wasn't for Nimu here, I don't know how I would have managed to survive at all," he said, affectionately rubbing the creature's head. "He has extensive knowledge about how to live off the land, and he showed me how to do the same. Of course, it's not as if he had much of a choice." The man looked resignedly into the distance, suddenly pensive.

Mork's eyes followed him, observing him. "You…you don't seem…"

"What? Like an Orkan?" The man asked, looking back at Mork. He laughed heartily. "No, I guess I don't, but that's why I left. If I may say so, you don't seem like much of an Orkan, either. Why were you out exploring the galaxy all alone?"

Mork licked his lips and swallowed. "Long…story," he said faintly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

The man shrugged. "Yeah, it usually is," he said. "Your story is long, Nimu's is long, and so is mine." He looked at Mork's broken body with great sympathy. Gently, he pulled the blanket woven from leaves over him, noticing that he was shivering. "We have a long time to discuss our stories, it seems. Your injuries will take some time to heal. I'm afraid I don't have access to the advanced medical equipment we have on Ork. Fortunately, Nimu is quite skilled in that area. He did an excellent job setting your bones. It looks like they should heal without any complications." He gently squeezed Mork's unbroken arm as if to reassure him. "By the way, my name is Orion. What's yours?"

"Mork."

Orion paused. He studied Mork carefully for some time before speaking again. "Your name is Mork?" He asked.

Mork nodded.

"Oh…"

"What is it?"

Orion smiled. "Mork," he said. "I know you."

"I…don't see how. I don't know you. I've never…even seen you before."

"Of course you haven't. You wouldn't remember me. I wouldn't expect you to."

"Then…how do you know me?"

"Mork, I was in the laboratory the day you were designed," Orion said. "I know you…because I was the one who created you."


	2. Chapter 2

Their Kind

Part Two

Over the next several days, Mork wavered in and out of consciousness, not giving him enough opportunity to fully process what Orion had told him. His wounds became infected and he battled a high fever, his rest disturbed and fitful, moaning in pain as he wrestled with delirium. Orion and Nimu diligently tended to him, gently dabbing his sweaty forehead and changing his bandages, monitoring the infection for signs of improvement. They constructed a makeshift bed for him out of forest materials so that he would be more comfortable, and they sheltered him from the elements in a nearby cave, keeping a fire constantly burning and supplying him with plenty of fluids to keep him hydrated. Gradually he recovered, regaining his senses. As his awareness increased, he felt increasingly awkward around Orion, unsure what to say to him. Orion seemed to understand this, being patient with him. Since he was still too weak to feed himself, Orion took on that responsibility, gently putting spoonfuls of some broth-like liquid into Mork's mouth. The broth had a vile and noxious taste and odor, causing Mork to gag on it and spit it back up. Like a baby displeased with his food, he made a sour expression, turning his head away, refusing to eat any more of it.

Orion chuckled. "You are just as I intended you to be—willful and petulant, strong yet tender," he said. "Come on, I know it's terrible, but it's all we've got. You need to eat if you're going to regain your strength."

Mork kept his head turned, his lips curled in disgust.

"All right, you win," Orion said, setting the bowl of broth aside. "You don't have to eat any more." He wiped Mork's mouth, noticing that some of the broth had dribbled down his chin.

Mork looked at him, deciding it was at last time for him to talk about what Orion had said. He blinked slowly, still feeling exhausted.

"I was told…that an accident occurred during my conception," he said. "That's why I have emotions."

"Let me guess—the superiors called you a Defective, didn't they?" Orion asked. He shook his head in dismay. "I despise that term. Actually, there is nothing accidental about you. I gave you emotions for a reason."

"What _reason_ is that?" Mork asked, growing angry. "I've been ostracized from the rest of the Orkan community. I've been imprisoned and banished from Ork because of you. I didn't have any free will, any choice in the matter. I didn't ask to be this way."

"Do you think I asked to be the way I am?" Orion asked. He leaned forward. "Let me tell you a story, Mork. You see, I was conceived the old fashioned, natural way, during the nostalgia craze. I had a biological mother and father who loved each other very dearly. This was before mating was outlawed by the superiors, but that didn't make the situation any better for me. I was taunted and teased, treated as abnormal and a freak. The others thought I was less than an Orkan, inferior. I had to fight against great odds to prove myself and become a scientist, had to face discrimination, hatred, and prejudice, but I did it. I refused to give up, and do you know why?"

Mork shook his head.

"Because I was determined that no other Orkan should ever have to suffer the way I did," Orion said. "Secretly, I endowed you with emotions when I created you. I wanted you to be able to _feel_ , to have passion. I wanted you to experience love, sex, friendship—the whole gamut of emotional experience. I didn't do this to make your life difficult, believe me. I did this so that you would have freedom. You said that you didn't have any free will when I did this to you, but you're wrong. Ironically, I _gave_ you free will when I created you. I gave you the ability to think for yourself and not become some mindless drone of an Orkan. I gave you an incredible gift, one which you should be grateful for."

Mork looked down, unsure how to respond.

"Mork, I know you were forced to leave Ork, but maybe it was for the best. Don't you see? You're too special, too unique for such a bland, intolerant planet. Even though you're weakened by injury and sickness right now, you're incredibly strong. I know, because I made you that way. I gave you a powerful body and a capable mind. I destined you for great things." Orion smiled shyly and looked away. "You know, this is somewhat embarrassing, but I had almost hoped that you would lead a rebellion against the Orkan superiors. I gave you those qualities, those leadership abilities. I made you wise and compassionate. I understand now that they are far too powerful to overcome, and because of this your life has become complicated. I am sorry you had to suffer, but maybe, in some small way, you have already caused the superiors to reconsider their policies. You have already started a revolt, as quiet as it might be."

Nimu entered the cave, chirping brightly in his native language. Orion smiled at the creature and put his arm around him.

"You can change things, Mork," he said. "You have the power to do so. Oh, not on Ork perhaps, but on other planets. Take Nimu, here. His situation is not much different from ours. You see, his people have banned emotions, too, but their punishment for expressing them is far more severe. Their punishment is death."

Mork looked at the creature, feeling extraordinary compassion and sadness for him.

"Somehow he managed to escape his captors, and he's been living here in the woods as a fugitive, as an outlaw. He shares a common bond with us, because he understands what we've been through. He wants to help us, but a part of him is hoping that we'll help him in return. That's where you come in, Mork."

"What do you want me to do?" Mork asked.

Orion smiled. "Nothing much," he said. "I know that once you are well, you will be looking to leave this planet and continue on your journey. It's just…you have an extraordinary sensitivity, a strong sense of justice. Should the day ever come, I would hope that you would have the courage to stand up to Nimu's people, speak out against their injustice towards him."

"Of course I would," Mork said. "I can't bear to see any creature suffer."

"I know you can't," Orion said, smiling. "That's why I made you this way. You see, Nimu here is only a child. He should be free to _be_ a child and not be forced to live under such harsh restrictions to his freedom. He's smart and has done an excellent job eluding the authorities so far, but if they ever find him, they will execute him and not think twice about it. A _child_ , Mork. Think about that for a moment. An innocent child. Sure, we have harsh penalties on Ork for showing emotion, but we would never consider death an option. That's why it's vital that we keep Nimu protected."

"You can count on me."

A horn blared in the distance. Mork heard shouting in Nimu's language, the high-pitched chirping taking on a sense of deep urgency.

"What's that?" he asked.

Orion's eyes widened. "Oh no," he said. "Nimu's people—they're here!"

Quickly, he worked to conceal their location, unfurling a curtain of leaves that Nimu had woven to cover the opening to the cave. He looked frantically at Mork as he heard the footsteps of the soldiers approach.

"We need to remain absolutely still," he whispered, his body tense, his breathing heavy.

Terrified, Nimu huddled against his protector, and Orion wrapped his arm around him to calm and reassure him. Mork watched them, realizing how strong the natural paternal instinct was in Orion. In some ways, as his creator, he supposed Orion was in a sense his father, too. He felt a sense of belonging that he never had before. For once, he wasn't alone. He was among others who shared his suffering, who understood what it meant to be like him. As he listened to the soldiers outside, their feet trampling the foliage underfoot with as much callousness and disregard as they would trample over Nimu's life, his anger increased. He was tired of being helpless and bedridden, tired of being unable to take action to defend himself or those close to him. On impulse, almost forgetting how severely he was injured, he crawled out of his bed, limping and struggling to remain upright as he approached the curtain of leaves separating them from the soldiers outside, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He grunted as he continued toward the curtain at an agonizing pace, requiring a massive amount of effort on his part to move only a few steps, his broken bones creaking, screaming, and groaning in protest, white hot flashes of pain shooting through his body as he moved. Orion looked at him in horror.

"Mork! You shouldn't be out of bed!" He hissed. "Get down!"

"I want…to see them," Mork said, his complexion ghostly pale and creased with pain.

Unable to go any farther, he toppled to the ground. He heard a loud snap, and for a moment he thought it was one of the soldiers outside stepping on a twig. When a fresh wave of intense pain radiated up his leg, he realized he had broken it again, undoing all the healing that had already occurred. His leg now lay twisted at an impossible angle beneath him. Realizing what happened, Orion worked quickly to shove a stick between Mork's teeth, stifling his cries. Worried that wasn't enough, he also clamped his hand over Mork's mouth, holding him gently, waiting until his cries subsided, feeling Mork's hot breath on his skin. Tears rolled down Mork's cheeks and he closed his eyes tightly, wincing in pain. The soldiers outside, seeming to be satisfied that their search had turned up nothing, gradually left the area, their intimidating footsteps vanishing almost as quickly as they had appeared. Relieved, Orion removed his hand and the stick from Mork's mouth, allowing him to cry and whimper freely since they were once again alone and undetected by the soldiers' presence. Nimu worked to once again set Mork's leg as Orion cradled him in his arms.

"Really Mork, what were you thinking taking such a foolish risk?" He asked.

Mork gazed up at him, his eyes weary with pain. "I wanted…to help," he said, gasping. "If they…came in here, I wanted to defend…couldn't let them…"

Orion sighed. "I forgot how physically strong I made you, how determined to protect and defend at all costs," he said. "I guess along with your emotions comes some impetuousness. But really, Mork, Nimu and I had the situation handled. We were safe from them, I promise you. They come by here all the time, and every time our response has been the same and it's worked. You shouldn't have gotten out of bed at all. Now look at you. You've caused further damage to yourself."

Mork didn't respond. His body felt limp in Orion's arms.

"Mork?" He asked, gently shaking him. "Mork, can you hear me?"

He looked at Nimu, who shook his head. Mork was breathing, but it was ragged. He had lapsed back into unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Their Kind

Part Three

As Mork recuperated, he gradually began to use a crutch that Nimu had fashioned out of an old, sturdy tree branch. Happy with his new mobility, as restricted as it was, he began to explore the forest planet with Nimu, playing with him and learning his language, Orion watching them in the distance or sometimes engaging them in games himself, content to assume the father role, with Mork acting like an older brother to Nimu, protecting and teaching him. They felt like a family, as strange and different as they looked from each other. Once Mork was fully healed, his strength completely returned to him, he climbed trees with Nimu while Orion fretted for their safety, scanning the lush blanket of greenery that spread beneath them and beyond the horizon. Returning from one of their adventures late one afternoon, Mork noticed that Orion was motioning for him to come see him. Turning to Nimu and telling him in that he needed to speak to Orion alone for a minute in Nimu's language, he approached him, knowing before he spoke what he was going to say.

"Now that you're healthy, Mork, I think it's time for you to move on," he said.

"But what about Nimu? Who's going to take care of him?" Mork asked.

"I will. I've been doing it for several bleams now. It would be my pleasure to continue to watch out for him," Orion said, smiling fondly at Nimu as he watched him play in the distance.

"I thought you said that you wanted me to defend him in case of trouble," Mork said sadly.

"That was only when he was in danger, when his life was being threatened. The soldiers have stopped coming this way, stopped searching for him. For all we know, they gave him up for dead and have forgotten about him. I think he's safe now."

"But—

Nimu initiated a surprise attack from behind, knocking Mork to the ground. Laughing, Mork wrestled with him playfully, being careful to mind his strength so as not to hurt the creature as they rolled and tumbled on the ground.

Orion spoke to Nimu in his language, sternly reprimanding him. Showing he understood, Nimu bowed his feathered, fish-like head in deference and returned to playing alone. Mork stood, brushing the twigs, leaves, and mud from his clothing.

"As I was saying, Mork, I think it's time for you to move on. Nimu and I will be fine, I promise," Orion said. He placed his hands on Mork's shoulders. "I'm very proud of you, how you turned out. I hope you know that."

Mork looked down at the ground. "I do," he said. "You've been like a father to me. I'll never forget you."

Orion smiled. "I _am_ your father, Mork," he said. "I am as close as you can get to having one, and it's an honor. But like any child, there comes a time when you have to strike out on your own, become independent. You were meant for greater things, and it's time that you discover your abilities and live to your fullest potential."

Mork looked at Nimu and smiled at him. "What's going to happen to him?" He asked.

Orion sighed. "I'm sure at some point even he will grow up and need to become his own person," he said. "Eventually, he won't need my protection any longer, either."

"Why don't you both come with me?" Mork asked. "Surely you can't stay in hiding forever."

Orion shook his head. "Mork, I can't," he said. "Since your spacecraft was beyond even my ability to repair, you'll have to initiate a distress call to your superior to be rescued from this planet. That means you have to go alone. Don't you understand? The superiors can't discover that I'm here. If they do, they will surely place me in stasis just as they did to you. Except with me, they won't strike a bargain and let me explore the universe as they have with you. My imprisonment will be permanent. I've violated every known Orkan law there is, and if they found out that I created you with emotions on purpose, well then…"

"I understand," Mork said, nodding, stopping him and knowing what he meant to imply, how dangerous it would be for both of them if the truth of his origins was revealed. He might have to share that permanent imprisonment with Orion if they knew, his relative freedom taken from him. "I will go, but not before I say a proper goodbye to Nimu first." He turned to look for Nimu, but he didn't see him. "Nimu!" He called. "Nimu, where are you?"

He heard a piercing, heartbreaking cry emit from Nimu over the ridge in the distance, and instantly both he and Orion knew he was in danger.

"Mork…"

"Take cover and hide. I'll take care of this," Mork said.

"But I—

"Remember what you told me? How you'd like me to stand up and defend his rights? This is my chance. This is what you built me for. Now, go."

Orion nodded. "Right," he said. "Be careful, Mork."

They exchanged a long glance before separating, each wondering if this was the last time they would ever see each other again. Soldiers pursued Nimu relentlessly, chasing him over the ridge. Mork watched in horror as they cornered him. He could tell the little creature was petrified, the feathered, serpentine looking soldiers much larger than he was, towering over him, leaving him powerless against their might. Nimu shivered and cried, pleading with them in their native language for mercy. Before Mork could intervene and save him, the soldiers aimed their weapons at the helpless little being and fired, killing him instantly, his small, lifeless body crumpling to the ground.

"No!" Mork screamed, running towards them.

Looking up, the soldiers aimed their weapons at him, prepared to fire at him as well. Before they could, their leader, an impressive looking feathered serpent, resembling the Mesoamerican god Quetzalcoatl, stopped them. He leered at Mork.

"An Orkan," he said in their native language. "I know how to handle him."

Using a device in the palm of his scaly, webbed hand, he activated it by pressing a button. Suddenly, Mork was entangled in a golden web of light that enclosed around him like a net. The light also bound his wrists, connecting them with a chain that led to and also encircled around his ankles. As Mork increased his struggles, the shackles that held him increased in strength, glowing with intensity, making it impossible for him to escape. Enraged over his captivity, Mork continued to writhe and thrash around, desperate to free himself. The leader of the soldiers approached him, standing over him.

"You cannot free yourself," he said. "The more you struggle, the more powerful your bonds become. You cannot even contact your superiors for assistance. You see, they are attached to your Orkan powers, to your mind. Use your powers to try to break them, and you will only succeed in shocking yourself—painfully."

"How could you kill him?" Mork snarled, growling fiercely. "He was only a _child_!" He began to sob, collapsing against the heavy weight of his golden chains of light.

The leader of the soldiers looked at his men in puzzlement. "Strange," he said. "This Orkan has spirit. I have never encountered this phenomenon before. It appears he is as emotionally afflicted as that boy was."

"It's _not_ an affliction," Mork said, "and it's certainly nothing to kill someone over, especially an innocent child."

"Is that so?"

Mork nodded. "Yes, that's so," he said.

The leader shrugged. "Well, we shall see about that," he said. "Right now, I suggest you concern yourself less over a dead criminal and more with preparing your own defense as you stand trial before the high court for aiding and abetting a known fugitive. Until then, I think I shall make an adjustment to your manacles."

He twisted a button on his hand device, upping the intensity. As Mork raged and sobbed, he felt sharp, stinging shocks prick his skin, causing him to cry out and writhe in torment. The more he screamed, the more painful the shocks became.

"Emotions are harmful," the leader said calmly, unaffected by Mork's anguished cries. "This device will teach you that. Either you will learn to control them, or you will continue to suffer. You see, I have not only tapped into your powers now—I have also tapped into your emotions. Everything you thought could work in your favor—your Orkan powers, your so-called emotions—now, they will work against you. They will be your jailers." He nodded at his men, signaling them to take Mork away with them.

The feathered, serpent-like men surrounded Mork, lifting him up and carrying him effortlessly as if he weighed nothing. Enclosed inside the glowing net of light, his body coiled tightly in pain and encircled with chains of light, he was easy to carry, as if he were a sack of groceries. In the distance, Orion watched in horror as they conveyed him to the city, where he most certainly would not receive a fair trial and would be put to death as mercilessly as Nimu had been. Unwilling to allow that to happen, he began to silently plan for a way to free Mork and get him off that miserable planet as soon as possible, even if it meant risking his own freedom and security in the process.


	4. Chapter 4

Their Kind

Part Four

The feathered serpent guards dumped Mork onto a raised circular platform that was surrounded by darkness. As his body collapsed onto the platform, the net that ensnared him untangled itself, lifting and surrounding the platform, turning into a force field that glowed brightly along with his chains in the dark. The painful shocks continued to assail him, leaving him to writhe and scream in agony. Three serpentine figures entered the darkened hall, unnoticed by Mork in the throes of his torment, one of them taller and more physically imposing than the other two, his massive, feathered headdress composed of elaborate, colorful plumage, his reptile face leathery and weathered with age. He observed Mork coolly with basilisk eyes. Pressing a button on his hand device, he lessened the severity of shocks Mork received until they ceased altogether.

Relieved, Mork winced and looked up at his torturers, awareness of his surroundings slowly returning to him. He panted in exhaustion, the intensity of the shocks and his unremitting screams nearly sending him into oblivion.

"I admire your stamina," The reptilian leader said. "Most Orkans would have buckled and pleaded for mercy, but you aren't a typical Orkan, are you? What are you doing here, besides consorting with a known fugitive?"

Mork refused to answer, remaining sullen and defiant.

"I have no doubt that you are a fugitive yourself," the leader said, unfazed by Mork's lack of cooperation. "I have it on good authority that your Orkan brethren share our common belief that emotions should be outlawed, yet you display a full range of them. You must be a reject, a flawed experiment of some kind."

Mork used to believe that lie himself, which filled him with feelings of self-loathing, but now that he had met Orion, his true creator who intended him to be that way, he knew better. He knew he wasn't as worthless as they told him he was. He remained silent, refusing to indulge his captor or be baited by his cruel words. He wondered where Orion was, if he had seen him being led away. He knew he could rely on him to rescue him if necessary, but he wasn't willing to remain passive, a victim of unjust political imprisonment. He was determined to escape on his own, and he had the patience and endurance to wait as long as needed before he figured out how to do so. Until then, he decided to engage his captor in conversation as a delaying tactic, at last responding to him to keep him occupied while he quietly worked on how to regain his freedom.

"What I do not understand is why you chose to suffer," the leader said. "Why not learn to control your emotions since all they do is cause you harm?"

"You _can't_ control them," Mork said, his voice hoarse from screaming. "You can try, because you're afraid of them and don't understand them, but you can never fully eradicate them. Pass as many laws as you wish, but emotions will always return. They will always be there. They are a part of every living creature's existence, even though you would deny it."

"Nonsense," the leader said. "Emotions are for the weak. That is why we executed that boy. It's why you were cast out of Ork. It is for the good of both our races that we rid ourselves of the infirm and the inferior, of those with unsound, irrational minds. It is essential to our survival that we remain strong."

"You say emotions are for the weak," Mork said, "yet I saw incredible strength in Nimu. Because of the harsh conditions you imposed on him, he became more resourceful. He adapted, learned how to exist in spite of your intolerance and your cruelty. And what about me? You told me that I resisted your torture methods better than any other Orkan would have. Doesn't that qualify as strength to you?"

The serpent leader seemed unsure how to reply, unprepared for the surprising cohesiveness of the logic that Mork used in his argument. He did not think someone that burdened with emotions was also capable of reason. He realized he had never encountered a more intriguing, complex being. Mork to him was a paradox, one that fascinated yet puzzled and frustrated him. He wished to learn more about him. Perhaps after they executed him, they could study his brain and try to understand how it functioned. They could put it on display in the national museum as an exhibit, as a marvel of accidental Orkan design.

"You killed Nimu," Mork said, "and you're probably going to kill me too, but I don't care. There will always be someone else to take my place, someone else with emotions. How many more executions will it take before you realize that emotions are beyond your ability to control? How many more innocent people, including children like Nimu, have to die before you realize that your system of justice and maintaining order is flawed and unjust? I guess what I'm asking, sir, is how much more blood has to be spilled before you change, before you realize the injustice of what you're doing, of how wrong and unfair it is?"

The serpent leader recognized the passion in Mork's voice and the tears in his eyes, as if he spoke from experience, which of course he did. It still amazed him that Mork was able to maintain continuity in his words and indeed to form any coherent words whatsoever under such duress. He would have thought his extreme emotions would have prevented it. He realized the Orkan was far cleverer than he initially thought, and he would have to be wary of him and remain vigilant, so as not to fall victim to any ruse the foreigner may have prepared to attempt to escape. He did not see how the Orkan could possibly free himself, his bonds connected to his powers, but he also knew that he was dealing with a different breed of Orkan altogether, one he had never encountered before.

"Do not operate under the erroneous assumption that you can persuade or deceive me with your pretty words," he said. "I will consult with my colleagues in private to determine what is to be done with you. Once we have made our ruling and your sentence is carried out, there will be nothing you can do to appeal it or sway our final decision in your favor. Do you understand?"

Mork shrugged. "Do as you must," he said, an eerie smile on his lips.

The grin momentarily unnerved the powerful serpent leader, who was unsure how to interpret its meaning, as unused as he was to emotions. It required an enormous amount of effort on his part to maintain his composure among his colleagues. He did not want them to witness their indomitable leader faltering, since it would erode their respect for him and their confidence in his leadership ability. For years, he had been their unquestioned authority, and he did not want to risk losing his position. Quickly, he turned away from Mork so as not to see that unusual, cryptic grin any longer, focusing instead on his men and the task at hand.

With the serpents' backs turned to him, Mork began to manufacture his escape method. While he was talking with the leader, another part of his mind had been compartmentalized, concentrating solely on how to free himself, running numerous scenarios and calculating their probability of success. As he spoke to the leader about strength despite having emotions, he began to realize that he had the capability of reducing the potency of his powers, at least momentarily. All Orkans had this ability, though it was rarely used, since their powers were seen as a necessary tool for their survival. Yet there were situations, such as the one he found himself in now, where enemies would try to take advantage of their powers for their own purposes and the need to shut them down to reduce that risk and limit enemy access to them became more apparent. He had never tried it before, and he knew that it was difficult to shut them off, the effort it would require taking as much energy and concentration as it would take for him to focus his powers on a specific target, but he knew it could be done. He had to try. It was his only hope. Closing his eyes, he began to fall into an almost trancelike state, imagining that his powers were weakening, going into a temporary dormant, inactive state.

When he opened his eyes again, it seemed to work. The glowing shackles surrounding his wrists and ankles were still present, but faded, as was the force field, which now looked paper-thin and easy to penetrate, its structural integrity failing. Carefully, he pushed himself upright, approaching the force field quietly so as not to alert the serpents, whose backs were still turned. He pressed his body against it, wriggling through it. It still had enough resistance to it that he had to struggle to get through, feeling as if he was passing through a thick wall of water, but eventually he managed to break through to the other side. Now he had to overpower the serpent leader and somehow manage to gain access to his hand device, something that he knew would prove difficult. If he used physical force, he was outnumbered, and if he reactivated his powers, he would only succeed in increasing the strength of his shackles.

As he stood there pondering his next move, he alerted the attention of the serpent leader, who had turned briefly while talking with the others only to find Mork standing behind him. Before he could react, Mork decided to take action, even if it meant risking his life. Still hobbled slightly by his shackles and at a slight disadvantage, Mork lunged forward, knocking the serpent leader to the ground, causing his hand device to fall out of his hand, sliding across the floor. The two struggled to gain control of the device, while the other two serpents called for more assistance from the guards. Straining and pushing his already punished and abused body to the limit, sweating profusely, Mork refused to relent, reaching and grasping until his fingertips touched the edge of the device. He grunted and pulled himself forward until his hand was on it completely, fighting off the hand of the serpent leader, whose claws were tearing into his flesh, drawing blood. Ignoring the searing pain he felt, Mork fumbled blindly with the controls of the device, trying to figure out which one would shut off the connection to his mind completely and free him from the shackles. Eventually he found it, the beams of light surrounding his wrists and ankles vanishing completely.

Enraged, the serpent leader tackled him, wrestling with him on the ground, trying to regain control of his hand device and return Mork to his confinement. While engaged in this struggle, Mork realized that he now somehow had to reactivate his powers and suspend time so he could gain the advantage and finally escape. Reactivating them proved easier than deactivating them had, the struggle for his survival bringing them back to their full capacity as if it were a natural protective instinct latent in his highly advanced Orkan mind. Without further hesitation, he froze time, the serpent leader and the others locked in their positions, unable to move. Gasping for breath and taking a moment to recover from his exertions, Mork slid out from beneath the immobilized form of the serpent leader, taking the hand device with him and running from the building.

Unfamiliar with his surroundings, it took a moment for Mork to find a way out of the building, most of it a maze of darkened and disorienting corridors. Eventually he did find a narrow tunnel passageway that led outside, and he ran out into the open, hoping to find Orion where he left him. He didn't have to go far. He found Orion on his way to rescue him, a shocked expression on his face when he saw him emerge from the fortress that held him, running over the ridge, not being pursued by any soldiers.

"Mork! How did you manage to escape?" He asked, looking at his shredded, bloody hand in concern.

Out of breath, it took Mork a moment to respond. "It doesn't…matter," he said, panting. He swallowed hard. "Listen…you have to…come with me, back to Ork."

Orion looked down, shaking his head. "We've already been through this," he said. "If I go with you, the superiors will surely place me in stasis."

Mork glanced behind him at the fortress, and then he looked back at Orion, the sense of urgency in his eyes palpable. "We don't have much time," he said, recovering his breath. "I placed them in a time warp, but both you and I know its effects are only temporary. They will be pursuing us any time now. We have to leave this planet, together."

"Mork, I can't."

"I couldn't help Nimu," Mork said, tears forming in his eyes. "I tried to save him, but I couldn't. I defended his rights in there, but he's already dead. It's too late for him, but it's not for you. You brought me life. The least I can do is defend yours. Please, give me a chance. Maybe I can negotiate some kind of deal with the superiors for your freedom."

Orion smiled. "Once again I'm reminded why I created you," he said, embracing him. "You have so much promise, but you're still idealistic and a little naïve. You have a lot to learn, and I'm afraid you will need to do it without me."

A horn sounded in the distance. Mork knew the serpents had been released from the time warp and were now searching for him.

"Come with me," he said to Orion. "Please. I don't want to lose you. I've only just met you, and you're the most important person in my life. You gave me permission to feel, to understand that it was normal and acceptable. For once, I don't feel so alone. I've never known what it feels like to have a family before I met you, but now I do. I want us to be father and son, just like the human families I see on the Earth TV signals."

The shouting of the serpent guards in the distance grew closer.

"They're coming," Orion said, smiling through his own tears. "You'd better send your distress call now, and get out of here as soon as you can."

Mork nodded sadly, realizing that Orion was not going with him. "Take this," he said, giving him the hand device. "It's what they used to imprison me. Maybe you can use it to defend yourself, although I'm not sure how it works yet."

"Mork…"

"Yes?"

Orion looked down and sighed. "I'm going with you," he said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yes, even if it means I'll be placed in stasis. At least I'll be alive. Being imprisoned for my emotions is better than dying for them, and I'll be with you. Just promise me you'll visit once in a while when you return from your travels."

"I will."

"The superiors granted you a great gift when they allowed you an opportunity to explore. It's what I would have wanted for you, too. When we get back to Ork, promise me you won't do anything in your defense of me to risk having that privilege revoked."

Mork smiled. "I won't," he said.

As the shouts grew closer, Mork closed his eyes, once again going into a trance to contact Orson. Once his message was received, he felt himself being lifted and transported away from the planet. He sensed Orion's presence with him, but as he faded into unconsciousness he could tell he was no longer there. He had disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

Their Kind

Part Five

"Mork," a voice said softly, waking him.

"Orion?" He asked weakly.

"It's _Orson_ , Mork. I don't think you have a head injury—unless our tests missed it."

"Oh, humor—ar-ar," Mork said.

He opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings. He was in a hospital on Ork, and it was unnervingly close to the room where they kept their prisoners in suspended animation, their sleeping bodies floating in mid-air on invisible anti-gravity beds, preserved in a glass tank where they could be monitored and kept under observation by the superiors. It was as if they had placed Mork in a room this close to the prisoners to remind him of where he had once been and to warn him what the consequences would be if he disobeyed their orders. For a brief moment he worried that Orion was now among them, but he didn't seem him, remembering that he had disappeared during the rescue. He wondered where he was now, hoping he wasn't drifting in space.

"You were fortunate that we were able to receive your transmission," Orson said. "We lost contact with you shortly after you entered that planet's unstable atmosphere."

Mork turned his head away from the disturbing sight of the prisoners in stasis. He stared at the wall on the opposite end of the room.

"Orson, do you ever think about the concept of family?" He asked. "I mean, do you think our lives are poorer because we lack them?"

"I suppose I have never thought of it before."

"When I crashed on that planet, I was so badly injured that I couldn't take care of myself, but these two wonderful beings tended to me. Without them, I wouldn't have survived. One of them was a child, and the other was older. We forged a bond that was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. For once, I felt what it must be like to have a parent and a sibling, much like they have on Earth."

"What happened to these beings? Did you manage to say goodbye to them before we rescued you?"

Mork shook his head and closed his eyes, fighting back tears. He sighed.

"The planet I crashed on was as violent as its atmosphere," he said. "The inhabitants belong to a warrior culture that despises what they consider any form of weakness. To them, the child was weak. They executed him."

"And the older one?"

"I don't know what happened to him. I never got a chance to say goodbye."

Orson could tell how visibly upset Mork was. Despite his own emotional flatness, he was more attuned to the strange behavior of emotions than the other superiors, making him slightly more sympathetic to Mork's plight.

"I am sorry," he said. "You must have suffered a great deal. Our medical tests indicate that your body underwent extensive trauma."

"I was captured and tortured," Mork said, "but I managed to escape. That's when I called for your assistance."

Orson was silent for a while, unsure how to respond. Mork looked up at him. He could tell the superior was struggling with his thoughts, desperately trying to form the right words.

"You know Mork, I was thinking just now about what you said about family," he said.

"And?"

"Do you suppose it's possible to share the kind of bond you speak of without being biologically related, or is the genetic connection an important factor?"

"Oh no, Sir. All kinds of families are formed across the universe. I have seen them on my travels. The biological family is the most common of course, but what about friendship? Couldn't that be considered a type of family as well? On Earth, I understand that some families adopt children that aren't their own, who wouldn't have a family otherwise. It's the relationship that's important, not their origins. I wasn't related to the child or the older one, but I felt as close to them as if we were a biological family. We loved each other and cooperated with each other. It made us stronger because we functioned better together than we would have alone. It was this love that allowed me to heal, to live."

Mork realized that in some ways he could identify with the orphans, the children on Earth without parents. He too was an orphan, although he never had parents to lose until now. Orion had adopted him as a son, created him out of nothingness, and gave him an existence. Now, he was gone.

"It has been my hope that you would find that kind of closeness, since it is so obvious you need it," Orson said. "Although we function as a collective here on Ork, I don't believe we could ever be capable of expressing this love for one another, as you call it. We simply aren't designed for it."

"And yet I somehow I was," Mork said, grinning to himself as he kept his secret from Orson. "How do you explain that?"

"I cannot, only to return to the original evidence provided by my fellow superiors. You were an accident, an anomaly of Orkan design. A Defective. However, I have heard rumors over the years that on occasion a rogue scientist would intentionally engineer Defectives like you in the laboratory, for what purpose, I cannot imagine."

"What would you do if you found that out to be true?"

Orson scoffed. "The entire scenario is implausible," he said. "No scientist would intentionally create someone like you. Look at the difficulties it has caused you. Your creator would have to be mad to give you emotions considering our laws against them. No, from the beginning, I understood what you were—an accidental byproduct of an otherwise flawless bioengineering process. I knew you were blameless for the emotions that have caused you so much misfortune, and therefore I was willing to give you a reprieve, to argue in defense of your freedom and allow you a chance to find a world more accommodating to your condition."

Mork knew that Orson didn't intend to insult him, but he still hated how patronizing his words sounded, once again making him feel worthless and unnatural, as if he were a mistake, his creator either incompetent or a mad scientist like the ones he had seen on Earth TV, patching together monsters from disparate parts. He was like one of those monsters, feared and misunderstood by other Orkans, too different from them to have a chance to live a normal life. He even began to doubt Orion's story, wanting to believe him but also questioning his veracity. It confused and upset him, but he also found irony in what Orson said. His superior could not grasp the concept of love, yet what he had done for him in some ways was a gesture of love, whether he realized it or not. Like Orion, he gave him permission to openly explore who he was and no longer be ashamed of it. Perhaps Orson was as much a father figure to him as Orion was, although much sterner. Even though he had lost Orion, he still had Orson, and he found himself strangely grateful that he had him as an influence in his life. Looking back at the bodies floating in stasis, he was once again reminded where he could have remained had Orson not showed him some charity and pity.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For what you've done for me."

Orson shrugged dispassionately. "It was merely a matter of necessity," he said.

"Do you have any affection for me? It's all right, Sir. You can admit it to me. Nobody else is in the room with us. The superiors can't hear you. You like me, don't you? Why else would you care what happens to me?"

"This is not a matter up for discussion or debate."

"Come on, Sir. Just say it. You know you want to."

Orson sighed. "I happen to find you excessively irritating," he said.

Mork smiled, closing his eyes. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, falling back asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Their Kind

Part Six

Boulder, Colorado—The Present

Mork and Mindy lay beneath the stars in the woods, snuggling together in a shared sleeping bag.

"So you see now why I gave you that strange look when you kissed your father before we left for our camping trip this afternoon," he said, finishing his story. "I was envious of what you two have. Maybe that's why I'm always looking to win his approval. Since I was developed in a laboratory, I don't have anything close to resembling actual parents. When I met Orion, it was such a relief. I formed an attachment with the man who made me, as short as it was, and I'm glad I was given that opportunity."

He looked at Mindy, and for a minute she was shocked by how stunningly beautiful and vivid his crystal blue eyes were in the dark. They seemed to reflect all the stars in the sky, almost glowing. She squeezed his hand.

"Where do you think he is now?" She asked. "Do you think you'll ever see him again?"

Mork sighed. He looked back up at the sky.

"I don't know," he said. "I hope he's out there somewhere. I hope he survived. If he was clever and brilliant enough to make me, then I know he figured out a way to escape. He gave me an incredible gift, Mind. He selflessly sacrificed his own freedom and happiness to insure that I could find mine, like any good parent would. All I can tell you is, be thankful you have a family. Be grateful you were allowed to be a child. Some of us never had that privilege. It's a precious thing, the freedom to be an individual. I hope you never take it for granted."

Mindy kissed him. "I won't," she said, hugging her body closer to his.

They fell asleep beneath the stars, waking several hours later as dawn began to break, a fine mist forming over the landscape. In the distance, Mork heard the whirring of a fishing reel. Unused to the sound, he sat up, trying to determine where it originated.

"What's wrong?" Mindy asked, noticing how unusually alert he was for so early in the morning.

Mork cocked his head to the side, listening carefully for the sound again. "Did you hear that?" He asked.

"Hear what?"

"Some kind of whirring, grinding noise."

"No, I didn't hear anything."

Mork forgot that his hearing, much like his other senses, were more finely tuned and sensitive than a human's, so he wasn't surprised that Mindy hadn't heard the sound. It was so subtle that the human ear would have missed it.

"I'm going to go see what it is," he said, getting dressed and smoothing his disheveled hair.

"I'm coming with you," Mindy said, also getting dressed. "It could be dangerous. You never know what's out here. It could be a bear."

Mork wanted to tell her that he could handle it, especially after all the perilous situations he had encountered during his travels, but secretly he was glad she was going with him. He liked having her at his side, liked not having to face the unknown alone anymore. They walked for what seemed like miles down the trail until they reached the lake. A lone man was sitting on the shore, fishing, his back turned to them. Mork listened as the man wound up his reel again, the whizzing sound much clearer to him now that they were close.

"That's it, that's the sound I heard," he whispered to Mindy.

Mindy glanced back at how far they had walked to reach that point.

"You heard _that_?" She asked. "Mork, we were miles away from here."

"I know, but Orkans have a highly acute sense of hearing, much like your canine species."

The sun was beginning to rise through the haze, casting the surrounding mountains in a golden, sepia glow. As Mork studied the back of the man, he thought there was something familiar about him. He noticed the white hair peeking out from beneath his fishing hat.

"Do you want to go back?" Mindy asked.

Mork shook his head. "I want to talk to him," he said.

"Why? We shouldn't disturb him while he's fishing."

"I _know_ him, Mind."

"Know him? How? I've never seen him before."

"That's Orion. I know it is."

Mindy looked at the fisherman. "How can you tell? His back is to us," she said.

"I know it's him," Mork said, nodding with certainty. "Why else would I be lured here by that sound? He wants me to talk to him."

He began to run towards the man, unable to contain his excitement over the prospect of a reunion with his creator any longer, shouting his name to get his attention.

"Mork, wait!" Mindy shouted, following him.

"Orion!" Mork shouted, racing towards the man. "Orion, it's me, Mork!"

The man turned, a startled, bewildered expression on his face. As Mork got closer, he realized it wasn't Orion. He stopped running, his excited expression transforming into one of utter disappointment.

"What's going on, here?" The man asked, more alarmed than angry, his eyes wide and his white eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I'm sorry," Mindy said, catching her breath. She looked up at the sky. "He thought he saw the constellation Orion, that's all."

The man looked at Mork as if he were insane. Heartbroken over his sad expression, Mindy went over to support him, wrapping her arm around him.

"It's his first time camping," she said to the man, hoping her lie would be sufficient enough to convince him. She patted Mork on the chest.

The man continued to scrutinize them carefully. "Uh-huh," he said. "I see."

"We're sorry to bother you."

"No problem," the man said. "I uh…think I'll go fish, now." He collected his rod and tackle box, walking farther down the shore, occasionally glancing back at Mork. He shook his head. "These kids and their drugs these days," he muttered.

"Mork, why would you accost a total stranger like that?" Mindy asked. "Didn't you realize that you frightened him out of his wits? You need to be more careful before you go impulsively approach people like that. You never know how they're going to react."

Mork looked down sadly at the ground. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I really thought it was Orion." He looked up at her, tears in his eyes. "I miss him, Mind. I miss Nimu, too."

Mindy hugged him. "I know," she said, rubbing his back. "I'm sorry."

"I wanted it to be him so badly."

"I know."

She released him and looked at him with great sympathy. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"Believe me, I understand how you feel," she said. "After my mother died, I used to think I saw her everywhere—the grocery store, the mall. Then I began to realize that I was a part of her, just as you are a part of Orion. You are part of his vision for the future of Ork. You probably carry a lot of the same ideals he has because that's how he made you. I know that's a small consolation in comparison to seeing him again, but I think he would be proud of you. In fact, I know he would. I know I am." She smiled.

Mork embraced her. "Thanks, Mind," he said. "Thanks for being my new family."

Mindy released him and smiled at him. "You're welcome," she said.

They kissed and wrapped their arms around each other, taking a leisurely morning stroll down the shore of the lake, glad to have found each other.

The End


End file.
